


Reckless

by BurrowingOwl



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, He's also the sass master, Ignis is a nervous wreck but refuses to show it, M/M, Set during the years Noct goes missing, Their lives aren't easy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-14 10:11:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10534338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BurrowingOwl/pseuds/BurrowingOwl
Summary: Lucis' eternal night is too dangerous, even for the King's Shield. Or at least, that's how Ignis feels. Gladio doesn't agree.





	

 

            “Now, where do _you_ think you’re off to?”

 

            Heavy footsteps come to a halt, the camper’s floorboards creaking beneath them as Gladio shuffles to face the advisor. There’s a short silence, and Ignis knows that his friend is most likely debating whether or not to ignore the question and head out anyway. The King’s Shield is an open book, even if Ignis can’t see his facial expressions.

 

            “ _Out_ ,” Gladio finally grumbles, and Ignis wishes he could laugh at the childish nature of the reply. He straightens his apron and adjusts his glasses. Supper will have to wait a bit longer, for Ignis knows that arguments with Gladio are never an easy win, not even for him.

 

            “I assume that recklessness must be something you take pride in nowadays, but do you honestly think it’s wise to go out in eternal darkness all by yourself?” Ignis argues, “After all, your usual companion has insisted on helping out Miss Cindy tonight–”

 

            “ _I know_ ,” the Shield groans, and Ignis can hear the leather of his jacket protest as Gladio leans his back against the wall behind him, “Gonn’ swing by Lestallum first, pick up Iris and maybe Talcott if he’s up for it.”

 

            “Driving all the way over there from Hammerhead on your own still does not strike me as a particularly good idea.”

 

            “That don’t concern me. You don’t need to _baby_ me, Iggy. I’m not like _Noct_.”

 

            Their second silence is quite a bit heavier than their first. Ignis knows that once Gladio’s spoken the words, he immediately regrets them – regrets bringing up their long-lost friend, especially in this manner, and, more than anything, regrets reminding them both of what’s become of their world. Ignis can’t help but let out a shuddering sigh as he tries to regain his composure. The groan that leaves Gladio’s lips doesn’t go unnoticed either. Ignis unties the apron and drapes it over the counter before clearing his throat.

 

            “I will accompany you.”

 

            Gladio snorts. “You’ve _gotta_ be kiddin’ me.”

 

            “I can assure you that I’m not.”

 

            “You’re not comin’ with me.”

 

            “I will _not_ lose another, Gladio!”

 

            Ignis Stupeo Scientia is not necessarily a violent man, nor is he someone who loses his cool very quickly, and the advisor knows that Gladio’s aware of this as well. Taking a deep breath, he relaxes his hands that had subconsciously curled themselves into fists, and once more adjusts his glasses. In his current absentminded state, he doesn’t even notice the way Gladio’s closes in on him and even jumps a little bit when he feels familiar calloused fingertips at the back of his neck. Ignis immediately wants to slide out of the grip – after all, he’s still quite cross with Gladio – but he doesn’t, frozen in place, not moving away but not leaning in either. The combination of Gladio’s scent and steady breaths so close to his face is strangely comforting, even after his outburst just now. Gloved hands slowly ease their way to worn leather, taking hold of the Shield’s jacket, as if to keep him in place.

 

            “You must think I’m utterly useless.”

 

            “I don’t.”

 

            A pair of warm lips press to his forehead, tracing scarred skin, Ignis knows. Gladio’s beard brushes against his nose, and knowing that the Shield will never take his advice to shave every day amuses Ignis somehow. 

 

            “Don’t lie,” he tells Gladio as he carefully peels his glove off of his right hand and allows it to wander before the other man can even formulate a response. How Gladio manages to stay warm even when barely clothed is something Ignis will never understand. His fingers trace what he remembers to be the edges of the impressive eagle tattoo. After all, he’s seen and touched the artwork enough to know where it’s positioned even without his vision. 

 

            “I’m not lyin’.”

 

            Gladio’s free arm winds around Ignis’ lower back, and the advisor lets him. The fingers on his neck travel down carefully, settling against his collarbone as Gladio leans forward, lips grazing the junction of his neck and shoulder as he speaks. It sends a shiver down Ignis’ spine that he simply can’t ignore. Resisting Gladio has never been something Ignis is good at.

 

            The second glove soon enough joins the first on the floor and Ignis’ hands, now free, trace Gladio’s jawline, thumbs brushing gently against his cheeks. Their foreheads rest against each other and Ignis can feel Gladio letting out a relieved sigh against his lips, relaxing beneath his touch. It’s been a long time since they’ve felt this way, and even longer since they’ve allowed themselves this kind of vulnerability. One hand threads in dark locks as the other grabs Gladio’s scruffy chin, pulling him in. Ignis closes both eyes – though it doesn’t make much of a difference, if not for the intensity of the feeling, or simply the force of habit – and brushes their lips together. The kiss is slow and gentle, as if they’re afraid to break each other, the complete opposite of their fight just a few minutes ago. Mouths explore each other as though it’s their first time, innocent and gentle, slow and sweet.

 

            “You are _not_ going to Lestallum tonight,” Ignis breathes in-between kisses, his fingers curling around Gladio’s hair, earning a low groan from the other man. “I won’t let you.”

 

            “ _Try me_ ,” Gladio chuckles, and it’s a deep sound that Ignis loves more than anything. Who knew that this was all it takes for them to battle the darkness? Or, at least, for one night. It’s good enough.

 

            Ignis stumbles backwards as Gladio guides him to the couch, arms wound tight around the Shield’s neck, not out of fear of falling, but out of sheer need to stay as close as humanly possible. Though it doesn’t seem like it sometimes, Ignis trusts Gladio with his life, so having him be his guide in the darkness has never been much of a problem. As soon as Ignis feels his back connect with the soft cushions beneath him, Gladio brushes their lips together once more. His body towers over Ignis, as if he’s trying to physically shield him from the world. A silly thought, Ignis knows, though it would mean the world to him if it proved to actually work.

 

            The leather jacket soon hits the floor, leaving Gladio’s upper body bare, and, though perhaps equally silly, these are the kinds of moments where Ignis curses his lack of vision most. He wants to tell Gladio how good he looks, how beautiful he is, and he could, for he remembers the other’s body very well. But it’s not enough – having the man he loves most in the world right in front of him and not being able to look at him; it’s torture in its purest form.

 

            Gladio’s hands gently take hold of Ignis’ wrists, guiding his fingers to meet with warm skin. Ignis traces the lean muscle of the Shield’s abdomen, and ultimately settles his palms over Gladio’s chest, feeling it move with every breath as the man’s heart thumps against his fingertips.

 

            “I missed you,” Gladio breathes, voice cracking as he presses Ignis’ hands harder into his skin. “Missed _this_.”

 

            The last time they’d gotten to be intimate like this – slow and gentle, without a care in the world – had been at a hotel back in Altissia, before Noctis had fought the Hydraean, and before Ignis was robbed of his eyesight. In a world of darkness they found that there was no time for love. They tried, though. They tried whatever they could to move on from the tragedy that had befallen their country… and their beloved King.

 

            “I’ve missed you more than you can imagine,” Ignis confesses into Gladio’s neck. He wonders if the other’s even heard him, but judging from the way the man’s arms tighten around him, he most likely has. “I couldn’t bear it if you were to leave me as well.”

 

            The only response he gets to that is a low hum, and Ignis can’t blame Gladio. In this world, they can’t be sure of anything. Whether or not the both of them live another day… it’s not a promise they can make.

 

            Careful as ever, Gladio takes Ignis’ glasses off of his nose and sets them on the little coffee table, and Ignis can immediately feel those eyes study his face – his scars, his hazy irises, everything. He’d feel self-conscious, but Gladio doesn’t even give him time to think, with his lips latched to Ignis’ pulse and trembling fingers hastily undoing the buttons of his dress shirt. It’s odd, to think that Gladio still wants him – Ignis knows he’s long lost whatever it is that struck people as “handsome”, and, on top of that, he’s become fairly useless on the battlefield, something he knows Gladio cares a great deal about – but, more than anything, it gives him a strength he didn’t know he possessed before. He can’t help but let out a pleased sigh as the Shield’s hands finally make contact with his skin and leans into the familiar touch right away, one hand curled in Gladio’s long hair as the other settles on the man’s thigh. Feeling bold – or rather, quite impatient – Ignis moves his leg between Gladio’s own, feeling his heart flutter at the low sound that forms in the large man’s throat. Hearing that alone makes up for what he can’t see for sure, especially since Ignis can picture Gladio’s expression just as easily.

 

            “ _Gods_ , Iggy…” the Shield groans, stealing a kiss or two as he slides his hand down Ignis’ chest. “The things you do to me…”

 

            The gentle confession makes the advisor’s mind go blank – something that hardly ever happens to him – and he feels like putty in Gladio’s hands. Ignis doesn’t fight it, instead allowing himself to relax and melt into his lover’s embrace and only think about that deep, needy voice and his own quickened heartbeat. He thinks that at some point the words “ _I love you_ ” left his lips, but he’s not entirely sure. All he remembers is those exact same words being groaned close to his ear, over and over as he’s protected by a large body towering over him, making Ignis feel loved and safe for the first time in years.

 

            When Ignis wakes he’s still on the couch, his clothes rearranged and a blanket draped over him. As he stretches out over the coffee table, he feels his glasses are still there. There’s a silence Ignis hadn’t expected to wake up to or, at least, hadn’t hoped for. His body already misses Gladio’s warmth.

 

            The sound of the camper’s door opening startles Ignis, causing him to pull up the sheet over himself, as if to cover up.

 

            “Gladio?” he calls, but is met with light footsteps that definitely aren’t the Shield’s.

 

            “Nah, ‘s just me,” Prompto answers, and Ignis can feel his eyes on him and practically hears his brain trying to process the situation. “Gladio just left for Lestallum. Didn’t he tell you?”

 

            “You could say that.”

 

            “Oh.”

 

            Ignis sighs deeply and stretches, adjusting his shirt and putting his glasses back where they belong before getting up from the couch. He’s sure the situation puzzles Prompto, but he doesn’t feel like explaining.

 

            “If Miss Cindy does not require your assistance any longer, could you perhaps help me finish my cooking?” he asks softly, and Prompto mutters a soft “ _yeah_ ”. 

 

            Of course Gladio hasn’t listened to him, in the end. Ignis briefly wonders what their encounter has meant to the Shield, but quickly pushes those thoughts aside. Their world has never made things easy for them, so Ignis decides to just do his own job, and let Gladio do his. He can’t control Gladio, and never will. Ignis will just have to live with this uncertainty and worry, for it’s not like it’s ever been any different, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! (This wasn't beta'd, I just re-read it 3000 times myself because I get nervous before posting)


End file.
